All In (Cedar Mountain University #2) (9 page)

Someone is pounding on the door to my apartment.

It takes me several minutes to realize that this is what the loud
thumping noise I keep hearing actually is. Because it’s eight o’clock in the
freaking morning on a Sunday, and all the sane people are still asleep. Which
is what I would be doing, if someone wasn’t pounding on the door to my
apartment.

Rolling onto my back in my bed, I yank my pillow over my face, and
listen for several more seconds in the vain hope that whoever it is will give
up and go away so I can go back to sleep.

Because I hadn’t gotten a whole hell of a lot of sleep the night
before, and for the first time in four months it wasn’t because of Grant.

Stupid Jacob Ross and his stupid almost kisses.

I’d obsessed over it all night. I’d even told Delaney all about it
over ice cream and had her obsess over it with me. Though she honestly wasn’t
very good at helping me dissect the date. She just listened and made what I’m
sure she thought were appropriate noises at the appropriate times.

Love Delaney as I do, I really needed to find a friend who had a
little more experience in the whacky world of men, because it was painfully
obvious that neither one of us had any outside of Grant and Cole. And I very
rarely delved into her and Cole’s relationship. It felt weird since he was my
brother.

The door to my bedroom is suddenly shoved open and a very unhappy
Cole is sticking his head in. Apparently he didn’t enjoy being woken up this
early either. “Don’t you have your own place?” I ask him.

“You’d miss me if I wasn’t here. Now get your lazy ass out of bed,
there’s someone in the living room for you.”

“Who?”

“I’m not your secretary. Get your ass out of bed and go look.” He
ducks his head back out the door just seconds before my pillow hits right where
he was standing. Grumbling I roll out of bed, running my hands through my hair
as I shuffle across the room.

Whoever is in that living room better have fucking brought coffee.

“Well hello there, sleeping beauty.”

“Fuck.”

Jacob laughs as he stands up off the couch. “Not a morning person?”

“Not on Sundays. What are you doing here so early?” I sniff
appreciatively because I do smell coffee, and something else. “Are those
donuts?”

“I figured it was better not to come empty handed.”

He settles onto a stool at the counter and I settle in next to him.
Our knees bump together as I flip open the lid on the donut box. Chocolate
frosted. My favorite. I take a large bite of one, following it quickly with a
hit of coffee.

“Oh, thank God. Caffeine.”

I bump my knee against his again. “I repeat, what are you doing
here so early?”

“I’m here for our second date.”

I know I’m staring at him with a dumb look on my face because I
have no idea what in the hell he’s talking about. Sure, we’d joked about a
second date last night, but when he dropped me off after the demolition derby
he hadn’t mentioned it again.

Just like he hadn’t kissed me.

“You’ve lost me.”

“How quickly can you get ready?”

“For what?”

“Our second date.”

Rolling my eyes I tell him, “Yeah, I heard that part. You never
asked me on another date.” I stuff another bite of donut in my mouth to keep
from bringing up the other thing he hadn’t done.

Because I’m sliding into the obsessed category over our non-kiss
and that isn’t something I need to share with him.

“Asking is for amateurs. I’m kidnapping you for the day.” I manage,
just barely, to not wince at his choice of words and hope like hell that
Delaney is sound asleep.

“You have to give me a little more to go on.”

“That takes all the fun out of it.”

“You are so obviously a guy. I need to have a hint so I can know
what to wear. Because I am a girl and this is the kind of thing girls worry
about.”

His eyes move over my entire body and I’m suddenly, painstakingly
aware that I am wearing pajamas. Really, really old pajamas. A pair of hot pink
plaid flannel pants that are beyond hideous but so comfortable that they’re
starting to unravel at the bottom because I’ve worn them so much. And the
waistband has long since become stretched out so they sit ridiculously low on
my hips. The T-shirt I’m wearing is no better. It’s one of Holden’s old shirts,
and has the logo of some band that I’ve never even heard of splashed across the
front, though half the logo has faded away. It also has a hole under one
armpit.

I can only imagine what my hair looks like.

“Never mind. Anything will be an improvement.” He doesn’t
contradict me and I like that he doesn’t. I don’t need a guy to tell me I look
beautiful when I very obviously don’t. There is absolutely nothing beautiful
about faded and torn pajamas and bed head.

“Warm and comfortable.”

“That seems to be a theme with you.”

He just smiles, pushing another donut my way since I’ve finished
the first one. I shouldn’t take it, but I do, because it’s there and it’s
chocolate frosted and I have absolutely no fucking willpower whatsoever. So I
grab both the donut and my coffee before sliding off the stool. “I’ll need at
least forty
-
five minutes.”

“Is it all right if I turn on the TV?”

I glance down the hall to Delaney’s closed bedroom door. “Not too
loud, okay?” He’s nodding his head and moving back to the couch with a donut in
his hand as I shuffle back to my bedroom. Once in my room I take the quickest
shower I ever have in my life before giving a quick once over with my hair
dryer and then stand in front of my closet wrapped in a towel while debating
what to wear.

He didn’t give me a whole lot to go on, and since he’d totally
thrown me with the demolition derby last night, I had no idea what to expect
today. So I grab a pair of dark blue jeans, a white shirt, and a gray fitted
hoodie. I slide on my tennis shoes just before heading back out into the living
room.

Cole has joined him on the couch and I hear the distinct music of
Sports Center
coming from the TV. But
over that I hear their voices. Had it been Holden sitting there with him I might
not have been as worried. Holden would grill him, but Cole would probably tell
him embarrassing stories.

And he has plenty of freaking ammo in that regard.

“Are you ready, Jacob?”

He glances up from his conversation with Cole just as the announcer
on the TV starts talking about yesterday’s college football games. He doesn’t
even glance at the TV, but his entire body tenses as they start going through
scores and high lights from all the games.

He obviously isn’t as unaffected as he wants everyone to believe he
is.

“Sure.” Even his voice is tense. “Let’s get going. Did you want
another donut before we hit the road?”

“Don’t let her have more than two, Jake. Grace on a sugar high is
not something you want to deal with this early in the day.”

“Bite me,” I growl.

“Come on,” Jacob grabs my hand, tugging gently while Cole chuckles.
“Let’s go. We have a bit of a drive.”

“You are so lucky I have a bit of a drive.” I shoot Cole a glare.
“Otherwise I’d kick your ass.”

“Sure you would, hotshot.”

Jacob yanks me out of the apartment, the door snapping closed
behind us. I gasp at the shot of cold air that smacks me in the face. “Holy
shit, it’s cold this morning.”

“It’s going to warm up some. You’ll be fine.”

Lucky for me his car is still somewhat warm so it doesn’t take long
for the heat to kick in. Music fills the car the instant he turns the ignition.
It’s just a guitar and a singer, with a little bit of what sounds like traffic
noise in the background. It’s a male singer and his voice is rough, grainy, and
utterly captivating.

“The Maine.”

I glance up. “What?”

“The band. It’s The Maine. An acoustic version of one of their
songs
.
”

“They’re good.”

The sleek little sports car pulls out of the apartment complex and
takes us toward the interstate. “So where are we going?”

“Nope. You’ll have to wait.”

“I suck at waiting.” I pause. “And long car rides. Especially after
donuts. And coffee. You’re doomed, Jacob. You should just give in and tell me
where we’re going.”

His head turns toward me briefly and our eyes meet for a moment
before he looks back to the road. “I’ll survive.”

I wasn’t kidding about hating long car rides. I get fidgety twenty
miles in and start tapping my fingers along my thigh. Jacob keeps shooting me
quick looks, with a little smirk on his face. I don’t know any of the music
playing so I can’t sing, though that’s probably a good thing since I suck at
singing, and the couple times I try to wheedle information out of Jacob I
quickly get shot down.

If I don’t find something to distract myself soon I’m going to
blurt out the one question I really want an answer to. Why didn’t he kiss me?

“Let’s play twenty questions.”

“What?” He asks with a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I’ll go first. What’s your favorite color?”

“You are serious.” He mutters. “Okay. Green.” His head turns again
so our eyes can meet one more time. “Does that make it my turn?”

I tuck some wayward hair behind one ear. “That’s the way it
normally works.”

“Are you always a smartass?”

“Is that your question?” I ask with a raised brow.

Jacob chuckles. “Is that yours?”

“This could go on forever. Just ask your question. Your real one.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

I groan. “You couldn’t start out easy? I can’t narrow it down to
one. Okay, okay, um, favorite food, favorite food. Ice cream? No, no, maybe
pecan pie? No, wait, wait, pizza. These are such obvious college student
answers. Dammit, I thought I was more original than that. I know you’re trying
not to laugh,” I say with accusation lacing my tone. “Fine. Chocolate covered
strawberries.”

“Final answer?”

I smirk. “Why, yes, Regis, it is. My turn to ask. First kiss?”

“Molly Trace. She had red hair, green eyes, and freckles. I’m a
sucker for freckles. We were five, and she broke my heart when she kissed Tommy
Jenkins the next day because he shared his Oreos.”

“What a bitch,” I say with a laugh. “But come on, Jacob, he shared
his Oreos. That’s true love.”

The music changed again, but this time it was a song I knew. “I
never would have pegged you for an Etta James fan.”

“I get my eclectic taste in music from my mom. She was a music
teacher. There was always music playing in our house.”

“My mom’s a teacher. Not music, since no one in my family is
musically inclined in any way shape or form. We could never get away with
anything at school. And as a teacher, she would be very impressed with your use
of the word eclectic.” Tucking a wayward curl behind my ear I study his
profile. He shaved again. I can’t decide which Jacob I prefer. The clean shaven
one sitting next to me, or the one with the hint of whiskers along his jaw.
“How do you know Robby?”

When he looks my way again, I’m still studying him intently when
those fascinating blue eyes lock directly on to mine. The intensity of his gaze
is somewhat terrifying. “He wouldn’t want me to tell you.”

I frown. “Tell me what?” Robby has been friends with Cole forever.
Hell, he’d been my friend forever.
 
I
feel like I know pretty much all there is to know about him.

“We met during an underground fight.”

My frown only deepens. “An underground fight? I didn’t know Robby
went to those.”

Jacob smiles. “He didn’t go to them, Pixie. He fought in them. And
for a couple of months, right after I quit football, so did I. Because I was
pissed at the world and it was a good excuse to kick somebody’s ass.”

“He fights in them? How did I not know this?”

“Because he didn’t want you to.”

I shift in my seat, facing forward once again. It went against
everything I thought I knew about Robby. Sure, he was a big guy, and I had no
doubt that he could dominate in the ring, or whatever it was they fought in.
But Robby was absolutely the nicest guy I knew.

Like, nice to a fault.

I just couldn’t picture him in some secret underground fight club.

For that matter, I couldn’t picture Jacob there either.

“Do my brothers know?”

“I’m sure they do, but I don’t remember seeing them there. At least
not the ones I went to.”

“Why wouldn’t they tell me?”

Jacob looks my way again. “These fights aren’t put on by real high
class guys, Grace. Most of the spectators are drunks or jackasses, usually
both, and they’re no place for someone like you.”